


Socially Acceptable Horrors

by coffeerepublic



Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Mild Adult Language, Mild Adult Situations, Slight spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-30 13:01:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1018948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeerepublic/pseuds/coffeerepublic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're not crazy." Another small pause. "This place is."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Socially Acceptable Horrors

**Author's Note:**

> Re-posted from my Luna account.
> 
> Original preface:
> 
> In the following, you may read my excursus into a whole new fandom. Actually, I've been reading SP fiction for quite a while now, but so far, I hadn't found the inspiration to write for it myself.
> 
> Mais voilà! Here it is. Spoilers if you haven't watched the 14th season, I guess. Enjoy! :3

“Sometimes I think I’m going crazy. I have memories of events that can’t possibly have happened. I think I might be seeing things nobody else does.” You turned your head to look at the boy sitting next to you on the brittle wooden bench and caught his eyes looking at you for a split second before he turned away. Staring straight on into the distance, he seemed to hesitate for a moment.

“You’re not crazy.” Another small pause. “This place is.”

You watched his profile, waiting for any kind of change in his expression. There was none; he remained unusually emotionless. Looking at the scenery in front of you again, you noticed a small film of dust covering the frozen surface of Stark’s pond. You realized it was powdered ice, scratched off by the runners of dozens of children’s skates, glistening in the moonlight. It seemed almost beautiful.

Suddenly sure that it was the right thing to do, you took his hand in yours, softly stroking the icy cold back of his hand with your glove-clad thumb. He didn’t seem to mind, even responding to your actions with a light, reassuring squeeze.

“Maybe you’re right. Remember when Cartman managed to conjure up Cthulhu? That was pretty damn insane.” You couldn’t help but shake your head at the memory.

“Who would ever forget that?” he mumbled in response. The way he said it — very quietly, not looking in you direction — gave you the feeling that he wasn’t expecting an answer.

You wondered whether maybe you had brought up a topic he didn’t feel comfortable talking about. Then again, he had never been particularly talkative, so maybe making baseless assumptions was the wrong approach.

“My life never used to be that chaotic until I moved here. Everything was much calmer back then.”

It was true; in South Park, a normal day was an unusual occurrence.

“Were you happier then?” You felt his gaze; it was warm on the side of your face. Suppressing the impulse to shrug, you pulled his hand in your lap, gently rubbing it between both of yours in an attempt to share a little warmth.

It was a difficult question. Trying to come up with an honest answer, you reflected on the handful of years you had spent in this place. It hadn’t always been pretty, but it was definitely something else.

“I don’t think I was.” A soft smile formed on your face. “I can’t really imagine living anywhere else anymore. And even if I wanted to leave, I don’t think I could actually convince myself to do so. It’s too late. I’ve grown too attached.”

He realized that this was as far as you would go when it came to a confession. He wanted so badly to dig deeper, to actually hear you say out loud what he knew you were implying: that the reason you could no longer leave was him. But he knew better than to push you. So instead, he leaned in closer, the hand you weren’t holding moving up to push the snow-covered strands of hair from your face.

He kissed your cheek; only actually it wasn’t your cheek, but the corner of your lips. You allowed yourself to wonder for a second whether he had taken such peculiar aim on purpose. The thought made you feel as though a strange kind of dismal warmth were forming in the pit of your stomach.

“You know, what I meant to say before was that even for someone living in this hole filled with lunatics, I…” You swallowed. “I sometimes see strange things. Not strange enough to make me doubt my common sense more than I already do anyways, but strange enough to… unsettle me a little.”

“What kind of strange things are you talking about?” He didn’t sound worried in the least, you noticed. But then again, why would he? He had lived in this place all his life. He had probably seen things you didn’t even dare to imagine. You could only hope that what you were just about to reveal to him wouldn’t change the way he looked at you.

“Almost every time something abnormal happens here and we are involved…” You sighed. “How do I put this? Near the end of nearly every adventure we’ve been through, I can remember a point in time when I was incredibly scared.”

You took a deep breath in and slowly exhaled, watching a small cloud forming in the cold night air. For a brief moment, a tiny, sad smile could be seen on your face.

“I have not only a few, but dozens, maybe hundreds of memories when I was horribly scared for your well-being. I remember situations of knowing with absolute certainty that you were going to die. But then my memory is cut off, and I can remember spending time with you just the next day, like nothing was wrong. This has happened so often, I’ve lost count — you probably think that I’m making up scary stories here, and I’m sorry —“

You hadn’t even noticed that he had grabbed your wrist until his grip had become so tight it was painful. You inhaled sharply, surprised when he pulled you against his body, his mouth meeting yours in an almost forceful fashion. His lips were still as cold as they had felt against your cheek earlier, but you didn’t mind. Your mind was suddenly clouded by a myriad of subconscious longings, and all fear of rejection you had been harboring before — gone.

You couldn’t possibly know, but your words had raised a kind of happiness in him that he hadn’t thought he would ever feel. Finally, he had found you, the one person he’d been wishing into existence for as long as he could remember.

He would tell you about his inability to die, and you would believe him. He was certain of it.

You would believe him.


End file.
